THG 
UNIYGRSITY  Of  CALlfORNlA 
LIBRARY 


Ct  OttwJ^  <A  -t^  WiXW  Ctnji  iui  ^«/rtl»^««. 


CGn-MLL7ir\HRMeS 


7|ie  Theatre 


AS  A 


POWERo 


'^e  THEATRE 
AS  A  POWER 


An  Address  Given  By 

William  Faversham 


IN  THE 

Chicago  University  Extension  Course 

OF  THE 

Lectures  on  the  Drama 


THURSDAY,  OCTOBER  19,  1911,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 


■Ir,  7)  J9r/^^^ 


H.  S.  Collins  Printing  Company 
Saint  Louis 


THE  THEATRE  AS  A  POWER 

An  Address  Given  By 

WILLIAM  FAVERSHAM 


In  being  asked  to  come  before  you,  I  realize  the  honour  is 
paid  me,  because  of  my  association  for  so  many  years  of  my 
life  with  the  theatre. 

I  must  tell  you  that  I  began  my  work  in  the  theatre,  or  I 
shall  say,  study  of  the  theatre,  as  a  boy.  No  one  can  give 
so  many  years  to  a  cause,  without  feeling  that,  of  that  subject 
he  is  capable  of  seeing  something  of  the  vital  truths  belonging 
to  it ;  consequently,  it  is  of  the  theatre  that  I  shall  speak  to  you. 
The  business  of  my  life  has  been  the  theatre;  but  there  is 
always  the  dream,  as  well  as  the  BUSINESS,  and  it  is  the 
DREAM  that  has  made  it  interesting. 

Only  a  few  years  ago  when  I  stood  on  the  stage  and  the 
curtain  went  down  on  that  beautiful  poetic  tragedy  of  Stephen 
Phillips'  "Herod,"  which  I  had  launched — one  of  my  great 
dreams — had  come  true. 

I  feel  quite  frank  in  saying  that  I  owe  everything  to  the 
theatre.  To  Irving,  the  prophet  of  our  art,  and  to  the  Lyceum 
Theatre,  London,  that  one-time  Mecca  of  the  artistic  dramatic 
world — that  shrine  of  England's  greatest  achievement  in  the 
theatre — I  owe  my  artistic  life. 

I  had  an  elder  sister  whose  belief  it  was  that  boys,  from 
ten  years  on,  should  see  everything  that  was  good,  and  worthy, 
and  well  done  in  the  theatre;  consequently,  between  the  ages 
of  ten  and  seventeen,  I  was  taken  to  the  Lyceum  Theatre  on 
an  average  of  three  times  a  week,  where  I  was  able  to  see 
Henry  Irving  and  Ellen  Terry  in  Irving's  masterly  produc- 
tions of  Shakespeare.  In  this  theatre  I  was  afterwards  able 
to  watch  many  rehearsals.  In  the  other  London  theatres  I 
saw  much  of  the  work  that  was  done  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kendall, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bancroft,  Charles  Coghlan,  John  Hare,  Wilson 
Barrett,  and  the  great  actor,  Edwin  Booth.    I  even  saw  Barry 

432347 


Sullivan  and  Dion  Boucicault;  also  Rossi,  the  great  Italian 
actor,  who  did  one  of  the  most  remarkable  pieces  of  work  as 
Romeo — whose  imagination  so  illuminated  and  glorified  his 
characterization  that  you  forgot  he  was  a  short,  stout  man. 
Years  afterwards,  I  was  able  to  see  the  wonderful  work  of  our 
present  great  actor,  Forbes  Robertson. 

The  conditions  of  my  life  made  it  so  that  instead  of  being 
sent  away  to  school  for  any  great  length  of  time,  I  lived  at 
home,  the  only  boy  amongst  a  number  of  women.  I  think 
the  average  person  would  have  thought  that  I  was  very  badly 
brought  up,  but  I  saw  between  the  ages  of  ten  and  seventeen, 
all  the  best  that  England  could  give  in  the  way  of  the  theatre. 
At  the  age  of  seventeen  I  ran  away  to  become  an  actor  and, 
humorously,  it  seems  to  me  now,  my  family  was  much  amazed 
that  I  should  do  so! 

I  don't  know  whether  you  in  America  know  about  what 
they  call  "fit-ups"  in  England,  but  when  I  disappeared  to  join 
a  troupe  of  players,  it  was  in  one  of  these  "fit-up"  companies. 
I  often  slept  in  a  bath-house,  because  generally  at  the  sea  side 
places  where  we  played,  we  could  not  find  rooms  within  our 
means;  but  I  had  compensation  for  all  physical  discomforts, 
for  I  played  a  great  many  of  the  leading  classic  roles,  including 
Hamlet,  which  I  did  on  Saturday  nights.  A  friend  has  since 
said  that  the  management  wisely  arranged  that  so  that  the 
people  could  recover  over  Sunday ! ! ! 

And  it  wasn't  a  bad  life.  We  were  studying  and  working 
at  Shakespeare,  Scott,  Lytton,  Dickens,  and  the  other  classics, 
not  to  mention  all  of  Ouida's  romantic  books  that  were  pos- 
sible of  dramatization.  I  remember  that  during  the  first  three 
or  four  months  I  was  on  the  stage,  I  created  the  role  of  "Lord 
Berti  Cecil"  in  Ouida's  "Under  Two  Flags,"  and  was  arrested 
with  the  manager  of  the  company  for  daring  to  dramatize, 
or  play  in  a  dramatization  of  Ouida's  most  popular  novel 
without  the  publisher's  consent,  and  paying  the  publisher's 
royalty.  I  remember  very  well  when  I  was  taken  up  before 
the  authorities,  and  one  of  them  asked  me  what  was  my 
"business"  or  "calling."  I  very  proudly  told  them  "I  was  an 
actor."  It  was,  indeed,  a  world  of  romance  and  dreams,  but 
high  ambitions. 

It  seems  to  me  no  institution  has  had  so  varied  and  so 
curious  a  career  as  the  theatre.  Take  it  from  the  time  when  the 
old  religious  plays  were  done  by  the  priests,  and  of  which  such 


an  excellent  description  exists  of  a  fifteenth  century  mystery 
play  in  Charles  Reade's  "The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth,"  when 
young  Gerard,  the  hero,  sees  his  first  play.  I  quote  the  fol- 
lowing : 

"From  another  group  he  learned  there  was  a  mystery  being 
played  under  canvas  hard  by,  and  all  the  world  gone  to  see  it. 
This  revived  his  hopes,  and  he  went  and  saw  the  mystery. 
In  this  representative,  divine  personages,  too  sacred  for  me 
to  name  here,  came  clumsily  down  from  heaven  to  talk  soph- 
istry with  the  cardinal  virtues,  and  nine  muses,  and  the  seven 
deadly  sins,  all  present  in  human  shape,  and  not  unlike  one 
another.  To  enliven  which  weary  stuff,  in  waddled  the  prince 
of  the  power  of  the  air,  and  an  imp  that  kept  molesting  him 
and  buffeting  him  with  a  bladder,  at  each  twack  of  which  the 
crowd  were  in  ecstacies ! ! !  When  the  vices  had  uttered  good 
store  of  obscenity,  and  the  virtues,  twaddle  the  Celestials, 
including  the  nine  muses,  went  gingerly  back  to  heaven  one 
by  one ;  for  there  was  but  one  cloud,  and  two  artisans  worked 
it  up  with  its  supernatural  freight,  and  worked  it  down  with 
a  winch,  in  full  sight  of  the  audience.  These  disposed  of,  the 
bottomless  pit  opened,  and  flamed  in  the  center  of  the  stage; 
the  carpenters  and  virtues  shoved  the  vices  in,  and  the  virtues 
and  Beelzebub  and  his  tormentor  danced  merrily  round  the 
place  of  eternal  torture  to  the  fife  and  tabor. 

"This  entertainment  was  writ  by  the  Bishop  of  Ghent, 
for  the  diffusion  of  religious  sentiment  hy  the  aid  of  the  senses 
and  was  an  average  specimen  of  theatrical  exhibitions  so  long 
as  they  were  in  the  hands  of  the  clergy."  But  as  Charles 
Reade  goes  on  to  say,  "in  course  of  time,  the  laity  conducted 
plays,  and  so  the  theatre,  I  learn  from  the  pulpit,  has  become 
profane." 

Of  course,  I  might  use  this  story  of  Charles  Reade's  in 
retaliation,  or  answer,  to  that  recent  gentleman  of  the  church, 
who  claimed  that  the  theatre  meant  nothing  but  evil,  and 
could  see  nothing  of  value  in  it.  This  clergyman  proceeded 
to  say  that  out  of  the  productions  in  New  York  last  year, 
there  were  five  plays  that  the  critics  said  were  not  fit  for  the 
public  to  witness.  When  you  consider  that  there  are  over  sev- 
enty theatres  in  and  around  that  city,  the  many  hundreds  of 
productions  that  go  in  them  during  the  year,  all  that  fell  under 
his  ban  were  five.  This  seems  to  me  to  speak  well  for  the 
drama  of  the  present  moment  but,  and  this  to  me  is  the  most 


important  matter,  the  sooner  we  get  rid  of  those  five,  the 
better. 

The  point  is,  you  must  not  allow  those  five  evil  trees  to 
grow  any  branches. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  well  to  determine  how  far  I  feel  the 
theatre  exists  as  an  influence  in  the  life  of  a  country.  I  rank 
it  high,  very  high.  It  is  as  great  as  the  pulpit,  if  not  greateri 
This  is  demonstrated  by  the  fact  that  our  very  buildings  are 
sought  by  the  clergy  to  deliver  their  lectures,  sermons,  talks, 
call  them  what  you  will.  We  have  a  medium  which  is  more 
appealing  to  the  people.  Ninety-five  per  cent  of  the  people 
remember  what  they  see  and  hear — five  per  cent,  what  they 
read.  This  is  a  scientific  fact.  Of  course,  that  doesn't  mean 
that  the  former  brain  is  any  less  capable  than  the  latter,  which 
retains  what  it  reads.  One  explanation  of  this  is  the  fact  that 
the  people  in  our  modern,  workaday  world  tire  their  brains 
out  during  their  working  hours  and,  therefore,  enjoy  their 
problems,  or  their  sermons,  or  whatever  they  feel  inclined  to 
receive,  from  the  stage  of  the  theatre,  because  it  is  visualized 
for  them  through  their  eyes.  Personally,  I  think  that  it  is  a 
special  gift  to  be  able  to  remember  what  one  reads;  that  is 
born  in  people,  like  the  color  of  their  eyes  or  their  hair,  or  a 
great  singing  voice.  It  is  a  rare  gift,  and  very  few  people  are 
blessed  with  it.  Do  not  most  of  our  great  lecturers  take  a  hint 
from  the  theatre,  and  use  the  coloured  pictures  to  illuminate 
their  lectures?  In  London,  Canon  Carlisle  of  St.  Paul's,  used 
coloured  pictures  and  a  brass  band  in  his  services,  to  attract 
the  poor. 

The  theatre  could  be  the  greatest  educational  factor  in 
the  world — sometimes  it  is.  We  may  not  be  able  to  learn 
in  it,  that  two  and  two  make  four ;  we  may  not  be  able  to  learn 
mathematics,  chemistry,  and  a  few  of  the  other  sciences,  but 
we  can  learn  history,  geography,  music,  painting,  costuming, 
proper  speech,  and  deportment:  for  the  actor  who  takes  his 
calling  seriously  and  realizes  the  responsibilities  and  duties 
that  are  his,  has  to  gain  a  knowledge  of  all  these  departments 
of  which  I  have  just  spoken. 

In  no  profession  are  so  many  beneficial  educative  forces 
employed  as  is  in  the  theatre.    We  bring  to  you  the  best  of  lit- 
erature, the  best  of  music  to  support  our  literature.    We  em- 
ploy scenic  artists  who  can  visualize  and  stir  the  imagination 
\as  ably  as  a  masterpiece  in  a  gallery,  and  we  also  give  life 


X 


and  illumination  to  work  that  would  never  reach  the  masses 
but  for  the  art  of  acting.  That  is,  we  do  all  this  when  we  do 
it  worthily,  and  it  is  being  done  worthily,  day  in  and  day  out, 
by  splendid  bands  of  men  and  women  who  go  from  one  end 
of  the  United  States  and  Canada,  to  the  other,  many  who 
work  for  more  than  money,  believe  me.  I  could  tell  of  so  many 
instances  where  men  and  women  have  been  tempted  to  do 
inferior  work  for  which  they  would  have  been  paid  very  highly, 
but  which  they  have  refused,  in  order  to  do  the  finer,  nobler 
things  of  the  theatre.  In  no  case  was  there  a  better  exempli- 
fication of  this  than  in  the  late  Sir  Henry  Irving,  who  died  a 
poor  man,  to  give  all  that  is  best  that  the  theatre  has  had  in 
our  generation.  Also,  that  great  and  wonderful  actor,  Edwin 
Booth,  who  lost  a  million  and  a  quarter  dollars,  which  he  had 
worked  hard  for,  in  trying  to  do  the  finest  things  for  the  theatre 
and  our  profession  generally.  No  minister  in  his  pulpit,  no 
novelist  in  his  book,  ever  swayed  the  great  populace  for  good, 
more  than  did  an  Irving,  a  Booth,  or  a  Modjeska. 

And  so  my  plea  is,  think  of  the  theatre  as  an  educative 
force.  And  now  I  must  explain  that  I  do  not  ask  you  only  to 
approve,  or  think  of  the  theatre  as  patronizing  plays  that  are 
serious-minded.  I  have  always  claimed  that  one  must  give 
the  great  masses  of  people  an  entertainment,  and  then  "tag" 
on  all  the  art  that  you  can,  and  if  we  do  this  we  find  that  we  will 
grow  artistically,  both  those  behind  and  those  before  the  foot- 
lights. No  one  is  a  greater  lover  of  comedy,  musical  comedy, 
and  a  really  fine  music  hall,  than  I  am;  but  I  think  some  of 
the  cheap  bids  for  sensation  by  exhibitions  of  moral  and  phy- 
sical depravity  that  are  growing  throughout  the  United  States 
must  have  some  strong  organization  make  a  movement  to  stop 
it.  Even  the  best  of  musical  comedy,  and  the  lighter  form  of 
entertainment,  must  be  taken  in  moderation  by  an  intelligent 
public. 

Ginger-bread  is  all  very  well,  but  too  much  ginger-bread 
is  bad  for  the  mental  digestion. 

And  here,  I  think  I  might  say  that  your  Drama  League 
is  a  fine  step  in  this  direction,  for  it  will  do  more  to  stop  these 
bids  for  sensation,  and  these  exhibitions  of  moral,  mental,  and 
physical  depravity  that  are  going  on  in  the  theatre,  than  is 
being  generally  realized  now.  I  think  the  Drama  League  can, 
in  time,  become  the  "prime  minister"  of  the  theatre-going 
public  in  America. 


However,  I  feel  extremely  optimistic  that  all  that  is  for 
the  best  in  the  theatre  is  coming  about.  The  last  ten  years 
have  worked  wonders  on  the  American  stage,  by  bringing 
to  us  a  fine  class  of  men  as  plajrwrights. 

The  curriculum  of  our  best  colleges  now  includes  the 
literature  of  the  theatre  in  its  course.  Men  like  Prof.  Baker, 
of  Harvard,  and  Prof.  Phelps,  of  Yale,  are  heart  smd  soul  in 
the  movement  of  education  through  the  drama,  and  the  best 
works  of  our  modern  dramatists  are  being  studied  with  the 
best  of  the  classics. 

Behind  the  footlights  the  same  progress  has  been  made. 
Each  year  I  notice  a  higher  standard  of  young  men  and  young 
women  coming  into  our  profession  in  all  departments.  This 
is  cause  to  be  grateful,  as  it  is  impossible  for  a  young  man  or 
young  woman  to  arrive  at  any  large  position  in  the  theatre, 
who  does  not  come  to  us  already  prepared,  or  who  is  not  will- 
ing to  ground  himself,  or  herself,  well  in  an  educational  way. 
On  one  point  we  have  great  difficulty,  and  in  this  I  feel  that 
we  can  claim  the  theatre  as  a  great  educative  force:  and  that 
is  good  speech.  You  know,  there  seems  to  be  a  very  curious 
resentment,  even  amongst  very  well-bred  people,  when  it  comes 
to  correction  of  speech.  This  applies  to  both  sides  of  the  water. 
The  Englishman  who  enters  our  profession  with  his  "heah," 
"theah"  and  "deah,"  is  just  as  bad  as  the  American  with  his 
"tub"  and  "yuh."  They  are  both  affectations,  and  they  are 
impossible  in  the  theatre.  There  is  much  too  much  slang 
spoken,  much  too  much  lax  pronunciation,  and  too  little 
thought  of  diction  in  the  private  life.  Amongst  the  young 
people,  they  seem  to  think  that  speaking  pure  English  is  an 
affectation,  while  really  the  dreadful  dialect  that  one  hears  so 
often  amongst  even  the  better  classes,  is  an  affectation,  as 
it  surely  does  not  belong  to  the  minds  and  the  culture  of  those 
men  and  women.  Not  only  few  private  schools,  but  few  dra- 
matic schools  seem  capable  of  coping  with  this. 

The  best  school  to  enable  beginners  on  the  stage  to  over- 
come this  is  in  a  good  company  under  a  leader"  Who  really  pays 
attention  to  the  English  that  is  used,  and  for  the  younger 
people  surely  no  better  example  can  be  given  them  than  to  be 
taken  to  hear  a  company  of  men  and  women  who  are  giving 
some  thought  to  the  beauties  of  their  language.  I  was  taken, 
as  a  boy,  to  the  theatre  often  three  times  a  week  to  listen  to 
the  pure  speech  and  diction  of  some  prominent  actor  or 
actress  who  might  be  playing  at  the  time. 


To  me,  the  glory  of  our  language  is  the  purity  of  its 
speech,  its  beauty  of  diction,  and  I  feel  today  that  a  great  deal 
of  this  is  being  lost  by  our  younger  generation  here  in  America 
and  Canada.  So  many  of  the  young  people  I  meet,  either  soci- 
ally, or  who  come  to  me  to  work,  are  lax  in  this  matter  to  a 
point  that  is  almost  criminal.  Some  three  years  ago  a  very 
clever  young  actor  came  to  see  me  about  an  engagement.  I 
wanted  to  engage  him  because  I  knew  that  he  had  fine  qualities 
in  him  for  the  theatre.  During  the  first  few  moments  of 
our  conversation,  he  told  me  that  he  didn't  want  "tuh" 
play  "heavy  parts,"  and  he  wanted  "seventy-fi"  dollars  a 
week,  "an'  "  was  willing  to  take  less  in  "Noo  Yuk."  Of  course, 
I  wondered  what  would  happen  at  rehearsals  if  I  started  to  ask 
him  to  correct  these  mistakes ;  however,  I  "took  a  chance"  and 
engaged  him.  It  took  nearly  one  season — he  used  to  blush,  and 
get  very  embarrassed — and  once  told  me  that  he  was  afraid 
people  would  think  he  was  effeminate!!!  But  he  finally  con- 
quered it,  and  I  don't  think  there  is  today  upon  the  stage  a  man 
who  speaks  better  English,  and  who  has  a  finer  voice  than  this 
same  young  actor.     He  is  going  ahead,  as  I  knew  he  would. 

Without  beauty  of  speech,  no  great  work  can  be  accom- 
plished by  the  actor,  especially  in  the  interpretation  of  the 
classic  roles.  The  reason  why  we  have  so  little  authoritative 
interpretation  of  the  classic  and  poetic  work  now  is  extremely 
simple.  The  young  actors  cannot  speak  it — they  cannot  manip- 
ulate the  words — they  cannot  manoeuver  the  lines.  Let  me 
explain  an  elemental  matter  with  an  elemental  illustration.  A 
very  great  woman  in  our  profession,  Carlotta  Le  Clercq,  gave 
me  the  following  poem  as  an  exercise. 

An  Austrian  army,  awfully  arrayed, 
Boldly  by  battery,  beseiged  Belgrade. 
Cossack  commanders,  cannonading  come,  r^" 

Dealing  destruction,  devastating  doom.  \\ 

Every  endeavor,  engineers  essay, 
For  fame,  for  fortune,  fighting  furious  fray. 
General  'gainst  general  grappled,  grasping  good ; 
How  honours  Heaven,  heroic  hardihood!! 
and  so  on. 

We  used  to  have  to  say  it  very,  very  slowly,  until  gradu- 
ally in  the  course  of  a  week  or  so,  we  were  allowed  to  run  it 
off  as  fast  as  we  could.    The  exercise,  of  course,  you  all  know, 


but  I  have  just  repeated  the  first  few  lines  so  you  will  under- 
stand what  I  mean  by  this  example. 

Another  study  which  is  so  necessary,  is  the  study  of  vocal 
culture,  and  people  entering  our  profession  today  seem  to  have 
forgotten  that  it  exists  at  all — that  it  is  absolutely  a  necessity. 
When  I  was  rescued  by  my  parents  from  my  rovings  with 
the  "fit-up"  company,  I  was  placed  in  the  school  of  Carlotta 
Leclerco's.  She  was  then  a  power  in  England — consulted  by 
Irving  and  many  other  prominent  managers  in  London,  during 
their  rehearsals  of  big  productions.  She  used  to  steal  me  into 
rehearsals  with  her,  and  hide  me  at  the  back  of  the  stalls, 
and  once  I  asked  her  why  Miss  Terry  spoke  so  slowly  and 
pedantically  at  the  rehearsals,  and  she  said  to  me,  "She  is 
getting  her  voice  placed,  and  is  SPACING."  She  said  this  was 
Miss  Terry's  method,  and  was  a  very  wonderful  one,  and  that 
if  I  would  study  her,  and  work  as  she  did,  that  in  years  I  might 
be  able  to  speak  like  her.  The  line  that  Miss  Terry  spoke 
which  seemed  to  me  so  strangely  read,  was  when  Faust  offers 
to  see  her  home,  and  I  noticed  on  the  "first  night"  how  beau- 
tifully she  said  it,  and  then  I  realized  why  she  spoke  the  way 
she  did  at  rehearsals,  when  she  said  to  Faust ;  "I-am-not-Lady ; 
neither-am-I-fair ;  home-I-can-go-without-your-care." 

When  someone  says,  "how  blithely,  how  joyously  Mr. 
So-and-So  does  this  or  that,"  just  you  remember  that  without 
his  having  given  much  careful  thought  to  the  rudiments  of  his 
art,  he  could  have  done  nothing. 

It  may  amuse  you  to  think  that  the  Belgrade  poem  may 
help  a  man  to  illuminate  the  soliloquy  of  Hamlet's,  but  it  is 
a  fact. 

What  we  want  are  important  training  schools  all  over 
America.  I  realize  the  difficulties  that  are  necessary  to  be 
fought  with  in  this  country,  because  of  the  number  of  great 
cities,  each  one  of  which  ought  to  have  its  own  school,  with  an 
important  board  of  directors;  and  the  best  of  the  theatrical 
profession  ought  to  help  in  this  effort.  It  seems  to  me  the 
ideal  institution  is  the  Gower  Street  School,  in  London,  which 
is  doing  very  excellent  work.  It  is  under  the  direction  of  Sir 
Arthur  W.  Pinero,  Sir  John  Hare,  Sir  George  Alexander,  and 
the  Bancrofts.  Not  only  well-trained  men  and  women  of  the 
theatre,  but  some  of  London's  most  prominent  actors  and 
actresses  are  employed  regularly  to  teach  in  this  school.  The 
busiest  and  most  important  men  and  women  are  its  directors, 
and  yet  they  find  time  to  give  many  hours  to  the  hearing  and 


discovering  of  the  young  people's  talents,  and  in  every  way  to 
help  encourage  and  stimulate  them.  Sir  Arthur  Pinero,  who 
is  the  greatest  English-speaking  playwright,  has  talked  to  me 
on  the  subject,  and  I  was  enormously  impressed  by  the  earnest- 
ness and  unselfishness  of  Sir  Arthur's  and  his  co-workers' 
efforts,  for  not  only  do  they  carefully  attend  the  examinations 
and  rehearsals  of  these  young  people,  to  judge  of  their  merits, 
but,  it  seems  to  me,  with  the  very  greatest  care  they  select  the 
teachers  who  are  to  be  in  charge  of  the  place  in  its  various 
branches.  And  today  that  school  is  supplying  the  English 
stage  with  some  very  fine  material.  One  or  two  of  the  best 
pupils  who  graduated  three  or  four  years  ago,  have  already 
attained  great  prominence  on  the  English  stage  and,  judging 
from  those  I,  personally,  have  seen,  I  should  think  they  would 
attain  great  heights. 

How  we  in  America  can  project  such  an  enterprise  as  the 
Gower  Street  School  has  greatly  interested  me.  The  diffi- 
culties of  traveling  in  the  actor's  life  here  almost  prohibit  it, 
and  yet  I  feel  that  in  New  York  and  Chicago,  while  I  know 
that  many  schools  do  exist,  perhaps  a  more  representative  one 
may  be  attained  some  time,  modeled  after  the  Gower  Street 
enterprise. 

Of  course,  every  actor  believes  that  some  one  power  which 
he  gives  through  his  work,  is  the  most  helpful.  It  is  purely  an 
individual  belief.  The  force  that  appeals  to  me  is  imagination. 
I  have  just  read  what  Arnold  Bennett  says  in  a  recent  publi- 
cation : 

"There  is  a  word,  a  'name  of  fear',  which  rouses  terror  in 
the  heart  of  the  vast  educated  majority  of  the  English-speak- 
ing race.  The  most  valiant  will  fly  at  the  mere  utterance  of 
that  word.  The  most  broad-minded  will  put  their  backs  up 
against  it.  The  most  rash  will  not  dare  to  affront  it.  I  myself 
have  seen  it  empty  buildings  that  had  been  full,  and  I  know 
that  it  will  scatter  a  crowd  more  quickly  than  a  hose-pipe, 
hornets,  or  the  rumor  of  plague.  Even  to  murmur  it  is  to 
incur  solitude,  probably  disdain,  and  possibly  starvation,  as 
historical  examples  show.    And  that  word  is  'Poetry.' " 

In  these  words  of  Arnold  Bennett's  lies  a  great  condemna- 
tion, if  it  be  a  truth. 

For  the  genius  of  the  theatre  is  imagination,  and  through 
poetry  we  get  imagination  at  its  highest. 


;f  The  dream  of  the  theatre  is  to  encourage  the  reverence  for 

I  the  imagination,  to  give  it  to  the  people,  to  develop  theirs.    I 
I  claim  it  is  the  highest  form  in  any  art.    It  is  the  essence  of  all 

great  creation,  and  without  it,  we  become  dolts  and  savages. 
!  Imagination,  imagination,  and  AGAIN  imagination !    This 

/  is,  and  should  be,  the  war  cry  of  the  theatre.  We  must  have 
a  worthy  stage,  a  worthy  public,  otherwise  the  great  works  of 
imagination  and  beauty  will  die.  We  must  give  it  to  the 
people.  We  must  make  the  people  feel  that  they  want  it,  for 
it  is  the  clarion  tongue  that  proclaims  truth,  beauty,  art. 

In  Germany  particularly,  the  acceptance  of  great  imagin- 
ative works  is  far  greater  than  in  other  countries.  They  seem 
to  have  a  more  highly  trained  audience — people  who  have 
come  prepared  by  a  century  of  development — artistically,  in 
music,  literature,  and  poetry.  Perhaps  the  most  significant 
fact  that  proclaims  this  truth  is  that  in  the  most  imaginative 
of  all  plays — Hamlet — the  Germans  so  lend  themselves  to  this 
force  that  they  will  accept  the  play  without  the  Ghost  in  the 
flesh,  but  simply  expressed  with  an  eerie  light,  and  the  voice  of 
the  ghost  being  heard,  showing  that  the  unseen  visitor  is  but 
a  creation  of  the  distorted  mind  of  Hamlet. 

I  appreciate  all  the  modern,  realistic  works.  America  has 
been  prolific  in  plays  dealing  with  their  captains  of  industry — 
in  taking  the  modern,  sordid,  truthful,  photographic  conditions 
of  life — and  putting  them  on  the  stage.  Some  of  them  are  very 
finei,  some  of  them  being  very  big  lessons,  some  accomplish  a 
great  deal  of  good ;  but  there  lies  a  great  danger  in  them.  We 
must  not  over-glorify  the  ash-can,  as  the  "crook-and-trusts" 
drama.  We  must  remember  that  all  these  material  evidences 
of  man's  domain  cannot  compete  with  the  wind,  the  stars,  the 
spirit,  the  fantasy  that  lie  about  us,  and  which  are  our  highest 
attributes.  These  are  the  plays  that  sway,  or  should  sway  the 
mind — the  spiritual  mind — of  the  man.  I  would  rather  see 
burned  every  manuscript  in  the  world  that  treated  only  of  the 
modern  realistic  drama,  than  that  we  should  lose  our  heritage 
of  the  imaginative  gifts  that  can  be  ours.  All  of  the  modern 
plays  that  have  been  done,  are  not  worth  the  last  act  of 
"Othello."  We  can't  always  have  Shakespeare,  but  we  can 
have  works  that  help  us  to  cultivate  the  imagination,  that 
remember  the  graces,  beauty,  wit,  fantasy.  It  has  never  been 
an  easy  thing,  either  in  our  time,  or  in  any  time,  to  do  great 
things  greatly,  and  to  find  a  great  public.    Perhaps  that  is  the 


reason  it  is  so  very  fascinating.  It  is  the  privilege  of  the 
actor,  in  his  relation  to  the  public,  to  feel  the  stimulus  of 
illuminating,  and  making  acceptable  a  great  play,  that  in  the 
beginning  only  a  few  really  appreciate  and  desire.  One  can 
always  do  the  obvious,  and  the  easy  work,  and  get  a  very  good 
recompense,  but  it  is  the  striving  after  the  best  that  is  the  joy 
of  every  artist. 

We  often  hear  about  the  heart-breaking  experiences  ofi 
the  actor's  life,  and  the  actor-manager  who  has  pinned  his 
faith  on  doing  difficult  work ;  but,  believe  me,  back  of  it  all  is ; 
a  joy  unspeakable  for  the  true  artist.  "^l 

The  privileges  of  my  calling  are  many.  I  am  rebellious 
against  the  man  and  woman  of  our  profession  who  can  only, 
after  years  of  work  and  often  after  achievement,  remember 
the  unpleasant,  the  trying,  the  difficult  hours — the  physical 
and  mental  discomfort. 

These  conditions,  even  while  they  do  exist,  cannot  take 
from  us  our  privilege  or  power  of  illuminating  and  benefitting 
humanity.  Why,  we  can  give  in  three  lines  of  real  acting,  the" 
glow,  the  warmth,  the  impetus  to  set  hundreds  of  minds 
aquiver  with  possibilities  in  their  natures  that  they  had  not 
dreamed  of;  to  drag  them  away  from  the  workaday  world,  to 
uplift,  to  stimulatej  perhaps  to  change  the  purpose  of  a  life. 
We  can  reach  a  small  boy  in  the  gallery ;  take  him  into  an  ideal 
world;  start  the  tiny,  almost  dead  glow  of  his  imagination 
growing.  We  can  make  you  joyous ;  we  can  make  you  thought- 
ful ;  we  can  make  you  forget  your  cares ;  we  can  send  you  out 
refreshed.  That  is  ours  as  actors  to  give.  And  that  is  a  power 
not  lightly  to  be  decried.  That  is  our  power  in  the  theatre. 
But  you  who  form  the  public,  you,  also,  have  a  power  that 
is  to  be  reckoned  with.  Good  citizenship  means  all  that  is 
best  for  education;  and  you  men  and  women,  you,  also,  must 
be  held  responsible  concerning  the  business  and  the  dream  of 
the  theatre.  Either  you  go  forth  from  your  universities  asking 
for,  and  willing  to  accept  the  great  imaginative  gifts,  or  you 
shut  the  doors  on  us  that  make  possible  these  productions. 
We  will  give  you  what  you  ask  for — we  of  the  theatre.  There 
are  earnest  men  and  women,  eager  to  have  you  demand  and 
consume  what  is  best,  but  without  you  we  are  helpless. 

Do  you  ever  consider  when  you  say,  "I  wonder  why 
So-and-So  doesn't  do  so-and-so,"  that  it  is  because  when  you 
have  a  holiday,  you  pay  your  money,  and  to  gratify  your  wish 
to  have  a  good  time,  you  cast  off  your  mind,  and  let  your 


physical  senses  merely  enjoy  the  inane,  inapt  "show";  show, 
that  abominable  word  has  been  coined  in  the  last  decade,  and 
which  is  used  to  designate  anything  from  a  "leg  show"  to  the 
symbolic,  exquisite  "Blue  Bird"  of  Maeterlinck. 

I  have  talked  to  you  about  the  splendid  uses  that  can  be 
obtained  from  the  theatre  for  educational  purposes,  and  now 
I  am  going  to  confide  something  to  you,  which  will  also  help 
to  educate,  because  it  will  both  honour  a  great  artist  and  a 
great  man,  and  it  will  give  dignity  to  our  profession.  It  is  a 
scheme  which  I  would  like  to  see  carried  out,  and  it  can  be 
done  through  your  support,  when  we  finally  begin  to  interest 
the  public  in  it. 

I  must  preface  my  scheme  by  telling  you  that  one  of  the 
most  impressive  things  that  I  have  ever  seen  in  connection 
with  our  profession,  is  the  attitude  of  the  public  towards  the 
artist,  in  Europe.  Perhaps  I  had  better  say  in  England,  as  I 
do  not  know  so  much  about  the  attitude  of  the  public  in  the 
continental  countries  of  Europe  towards  their  actors ;  but  I  DO 
know  about  it  in  England.  It  is  an  attitude  of  dignified  re- 
spect, and  it  never  so  impressed  me  as  it  did  this  year  in  Lon- 
don. The  city  was  filled  with  all  sorts  of  people  from  all  over 
the  continent,  of  all  nationalities,  and  from  all  parts  of  the 
British  Isles.  I  stood  very  often  in  front  of  the  statue  that  was 
put  up  in  memory  of  Sir  Henry  Irving  in  front  of  the  National 
Portrait  Gallery — a  beautiful,  simple  monument  with  the  figure 
of  this  wonderful  man  surmounting  it,  and  underneath  it  the 
simple  words:  "Henry  Irving,  Actor;  Born,  February  8,  1837; 
Died,  October  13,  1905."  As  I  watched  the  crowd  pass  this 
monument,  I  have  seen  men  of  all  nationalities  stop  and  look 
at  it,  raise  their  hats,  and  walk  on.  That  monument  has  done 
more  to  impress  the  people  with  the  dignity  of  our  profession 
than  a  library  of  praise  concerning  the  power  of  the  theatre. 
Henry  Irving  was  the  man  in  England  who  raised  the  social 
position  of  the  actor,  and  rightly  deserves  the  monument  of 
dignified  respect  which  the  public  gave  him,  and  his  profession. 

A  man  said  to  me  not  long  ago,  speaking  of  a  certain  actor 
in  England:  "Yes;  he  is  great.  He  is  too  fine  an  actor  to  be 
knighted."  Of  course,  we  appreciate  the  humor  of  that.  Let 
it  pass.  But  after  all,  the  knighting  of  the  players  is  done 
to  give  a  dignfiied  recognition  of  the  work  that  the  actor  has 
accomplished. 


The  money  was  raised  for  this  monument  to  Sir  Henry 
Irving  by  subscriptions  from  members  of  every  branch  of  the 
dramatic  profession. 

Now,  what  I  want  to  see  done  in  this  country,  is  a  very 
similar  movement.  America  has  produced  a  man  in  our  pro- 
fession who  was  as  great  a  man  as  Irving,  perhaps  a  greater 
natural  actor;  who  really  did  more  for  our  profession  than 
anybody  who  has  ever  worked  in  it  in  this  country. 

That  man  was  Edwin  Booth. 

I  have  just  told  you  the  amount  of  money  which  he  spent, 
and  lost,  in  doing  beautiful  work  in  the  theatre,  bringing 
into  his  work  the  finest  artists  and  musicians,  and  the  finest 
company  of  actors  that  the  country  could  produce.  Now, 
why  shouldn't  we  have  a  statue  of  Edwin  Booth?  Don't  you 
think  if  such  a  statue  stood  in  one  of  your  public  places,  that 
every  time  the  man  on  the  street  passed  it,  and  stopped  to 
think,  that  he  would  give  it  the  dignified  thought  and  con- 
sideration that  it  deserves? 

Don't  you  think  it  would  make  him  appreciate  the  work 
and  the  attainments  of  the  people  in  our  profession?  And 
don't  you  think  between  us  such  a  movement  can  be  started? 

Just  vaguely  in  my  mind  I  have  an  idea  how  such  a  thing 
could  be  brought  about.  I  want  to  see  a  committee  formed 
of  representative  men  and  women;  I  want  them  to  choose 
the  best  American  sculptor  to  do  this  statue;  I  want  them 
to  obtain  the  very  best  actors  that  America  has,  and  by  the 
most  skillful  stage  management,  form  a  company  of  these 
actors;  then  select  three  or  four  of  the  best  classic  plays.  I 
want  them  to  allot  the  actors  to  their  parts,  not  taking  into 
consideration  whether  the  actors  are  stars  or  whether  they  are 
not  stars,  but  to  play  the  parts  which  the  committee  consider 
these  actors  are  fitted  to  play.  When  I  speak  of  actors  being 
American,  don't  misunderstand  that  I  mean  the  people  must 
be  bred  and  born  in  this  country.  I  am  an  Englishman,  but 
I  am  an  American  actor,  and  this  applies  to  many  more.  I 
don't  recognize  any  nationality  in  art.  Let  them  choose  from 
the  best  that  there  is  in  America  at  the  time,  and  you  may 
be  sure  they  would  make  a  very  fine  showing.  There  should 
be  four  or  five  performances.  They  should  not  come  on 
consecutive  days.  They  should  come  say  one  every  month. 
Tickets  should  be  sold  for  one,  or  for  the  series.  It  would 
be  very  easy  for  a  committee  to  find  out  what  companies 
are  playing  in  Chicago  during,  say  November,  and  from  these 
companies  pick  their  cast.  Again,  they  can  pick  the  cast 
for  one  of  the  other  plays  during  the  month  of  December,  then 
January,  and  so  on.    The  same  thing  could  be  done  in  New 


York,  and  I  think  if  the  public  were  properly  informed  about 
the  movement,  that  it  could  be  carried  out  just  as  well  as  it 
was  carried  out  in  England;  even  on  a  bigger  scale,  perhaps, 
as  we  have  a  larger  population  from  which  to  draw  our  con- 
tributions. 

I  have  already  talked  this  matter  over  with  Mr.  Norman 
Hapgood,  of  Collier's  Weekly,  and  have  asked  him  to  try  and 
form  a  committee  to  start  the  movement.  There  is  not  an 
actor,  there  is  not  an  artist,  there  is  not  a  costumer,  or  any- 
body in  connection  with  our  profession  who,  I  am  sure,  would 
not  give  their  services  to  this,  without  any  consideration  of 
monetary  return. 

Now,  I  am  hoping  there  is  somebody  in  Chicago  who  will 
project  this  enterprise.  I  have  many  ideas  on  the  subject, 
and  I  should  like  to  talk  further  to  those  who  would  be  in- 
terested in  it.  Quite  the  most  wonderful  thing  that  could 
happen,  would  be  to  interest  the  authorities  of  your  university, 
and  receive  the  help  from  a  committee  formed  of  its  professors 
in  art  and  literature.  I  believe  that  if  these  gentlemen  would 
agree  to  this  plan,  and  would  call  together  the  dramatic  critics 
of  Chicago  (a  body  of  people  who  have  done  so  much  to  help 
our  profession,  and  bring  to  it  a  dignified  consideration)  that 
a  generous  response  would  be  given  us  by  all  the  newspapers, 
and  through  them  the  public  would  be  reached,  and  the  project 
would  be  assured  of  success. 

And  now,  a  final  word  in  regard  to  the  theatre  in  general. 
It  seems  to  me  that  a  good  deal  of  the  future  of  the  theatre 
is  in  your  hands — the  public's  hands — backed  up  by  your 
splendid  newspapers  and  magazines  who  follow  it  so  closely 
and  are  willing  to  write  so  extensively  about  it.  You  can  de- 
mand from  us  almost  what  you  want;  you  have  the  power 
to  force  us  to  give  you  the  best,  and  it  is  so  easy  for  you  to 
ignore  us,  to  pass  us  by,  if  we  don't  give  you  the  best.  It  is 
also  very  easy  for  you  to  encourage  us  and  help  us  to  climb 
artistically  and  educationally,  and  bring  the  theatre  to  the 
heights  we  want  to  see  it  stand  upon. 

Condemn  all  things  that  are  brought  into  the  theatre  by 
people  who  have  not  the  real  interest  of  the  theatre  at  heart, 
beyond  a  desire  to  gain  notoriety,  or  solely  to  make  money. 

And  so  that  you  shall  not  misunderstand  anything  that 
I  have  said  in  this  paper,  I  want  to  say,  my  text,  whenever  I 
am  preaching  about  the  theatre,  is  "Entertain;  tag  on  all  the 
art  you  can  while  you  are  entertaining,  and  eventually  the 
best  art  will  be  accepted  as  entertainment." 

The  theatre  has  its  MISSION,  and  the  theatre  has  its 
PLACE,  and  with  your  assistance,  it  ought  to  attain  a  very 
high  one. 


AK  INITIAL  FINE  OF  f  f  ^r.' 

TH.S  BOOK  O-'^THE  ""Jl^^s  ^^^  ^^rtH 

Xr«o"«    S^roTTHe    SEVENTH    O.T 

OVERDUE. 


GaylordBros 

Makers 

Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

PAT.  JAN.  21,  1901 


YD  0346 


4:^2347 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


